Life on Mars
by War Journalist
Summary: A conversation on the Red Planet


**Life on Mars**

A _Doctor Who_/_Watchmen_ Crossover

Mars. The Red Planet. Eventually mankind would learn its uncanny similarities to Earth, and begin to look at it in a new light. But for the moment, it merely floats in the universe, beneath their notice, beyond their grasp, and further than their imaginations. Much like me. As I wished it to be. But then, a wish is rather like a prayer; a calling for some outside, perhaps godly, force to grant our desires. But since I need not wish or pray to achieve what I want, does that make me god? Milton, my old friend, certainly seemed to think so. "God exists, and he is American." My apologies, Milton. But I can no longer restrain myself to such a limited world, much less a single country.

They called me Dr. Manhattan in an attempt to frighten their enemies. Such small creatures, humans are. Relying like fleas on a dog for safety, assurance, and existence entirely. With a swipe or a snap I could end them all, were they worthy of my attention. Hopefully not all sentient life will perform as they do. The flora and fauna of Earth seem to behave more discreetly than their so-called 'further-evolved' counterparts, even with only the barest comparable mental capacity. Imagination seems to be the engine of destruction.

Ah. A visitor. He arrives in a strange craft: a Britannic Police call-box. It appeared through no means of physical travel, but merely phasing into existence. He steps forth from the deep blue double-doors in an odd orange suit, almost like an Earth space suit. He steps without purpose, even skipping occasionally, flaring a leg. He does not dawdle on the stones or the minerals. He observes the skyline and the landscape as a tourist would admire a painting. He is a traveler; an explorer. And he is alone. I wonder if he prefers it that way.

He sees me now. I am not hard to find; a glowing blue sun on a desolate red face. Yet even as he sees me, he makes no hurry. The only sign is his more direct route. Still he admires the surroundings like an old familiar house. Not quite a home, but a place you've been to many times before.

Home. That word seems to be losing its meaning, like so many before it. The skin of my old, human life feels as though it is shedding from me like old clothes.

As he approaches, I realize how his presence intrigues me so. He is clearly not of Earth. At least, the current Earth. He walks as though he knows me, or expects me. Like fellows passing by on a busy street corner. I foresaw his arrival, and thus I expect him. But it is a strange feeling reaching back from my past.

His arrival will be important. Our conversation will have meaning. Perhaps I should gather some gases for him to breathe, so that we may more easily converse.

By the time he reaches me, I have a selection. He stops beside me, looking off into the stars as I do. "Ello" he says. He has an entertaining Estuary English accent. "Greetings." I reply. "Been here long?" he asks. I consider the question. "Cosmically, no. Not at all. But I am sure there are a few humans whose lives are passing very slowly without me. For one reason or another."

He stands in silence for a moment, considering my words. "I'm the Doctor" he says, holding out a hand. I turn and consider the gesture. It is a familiar one that has not yet slipped away. I break my meditative position to briefly shake it. "So am I. Or I was." He takes back his hand and returns to stargazing. "And now?" he asks. "I do not know" I say. It is the truth.

"Well," he begins, sympathetically, "a name is a label. A label is used by something to identify another something amidst a plethora of somethings. And you..." he looks around, flexing his back, "You seem to be the only something around." I consider his words, and remember my offer. "What do you breathe?" I ask. "Pardon me?" "What gas do you inhale to supply your body?" He laughs lightly. "Oh, haha. Good ol' O2. A bit rare around these parts." I focus a tiny piece of my will and fill the surrounding area with oxygen, doing what conversions I need to to create an ample supply. "You may remove your helmet. It may make this conversation easier."

He stands for a moment, and uses a device on his suit. Most likely, to check my work. He removes his helmet and breathes deeply. From the corner of my eye, I see him moving his lips and tongue, seemingly tasting the air. He is a strange man. "Brilliant" he concludes.

"Your ship is a fascinating one" I say with no enthusiasm. "How does it work?" He regards me for a moment, making the occasional syllable as he attempts to explain. Finally he simply says "Time-travel. Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff ." There is a long pause as he thinks. "Then again, if you are who I believe you are, you should have no problem taking it apart and finding out. I realize that he is correct, and focus my energy on the strange craft. Quickly I discover that the device itself is a spatial paradox. Larger on the inside. Someday I would like to try my hand at making one. But for the moment, I am content. I leave it alone.

"Came up here to be all alone, did you?" he asks. "Yes." This time I pause for a moment. "Humans are... inferior. Yet somehow complicated." He sits down beside me, in the same cross-legged position. "Yes. Indeed they are. Complicated, I mean. 'Inferior' might be going a step too far." I turn to him. "You defend them, yet you speak as though you are not one of them." He pushes his lips together and faces me. "I'm not. Never was. Unlike you. It must be a fantastic viewpoint. Changing from one to the other. Seeing the ties that bind-" I interrupt him without intending to. "And watching those ties break." He bites his lower lip. "Sorry. Always two sides to a coin." The primitive analogy irked me, but I allowed it.

"You defend these humans, yet you are alone. Why?" He leans back, placing his hands behind his head. "What makes you think I have a choice?" I return to my own stargazing. "Many things. Your ship, for instance. It is of a shape recognizable to humans. The writing is in English. You speak English. You recognize this planet, and apparently me. Thus you are personally familiar with the planet. Not unlikely, given your uncanny resemblance to human beings."

He released a sigh. "You are very, very good, sir. Yes, I've had companions from Earth. I've traveled the stars, traversed time and space. I've seen what humanity can do. And do you know what? It never ceases to amaze me. For good and for ill. They can be the most... selfish, blithe, ignorant creatures. But they can also be the bravest, most responsible, and loving beings I've ever seen."

I merely watch the stars as he speaks. His accent is pleasant, his words are thoughtful, and his voice is slow and soothing. "Complex, I'll give you. It's maddening sometimes, trying to figure out what's going on inside their minds. But inferior, no. Me, I can live forever. See stars and civilizations fizzle and die. But I've seen my friends do the same. How I sometimes wish I could age and die like a human. Grow old with someone. I've heard it's nice." He trails off into silence.

I gather myself and ask the question that has been weighing on my mind. "Have you ever... loved a human?" He does not move, but his voice drops low, so that I hardly need the word to know to answer. "Yes."

"And yet you still see them the way you do?" He sits up. "Of course. Humans, and everything that surrounds them, is such a wonderful mystery. I've seen the end of the universe- well, not the end-end, but I was there for the final moments. And so were they. Of all the species on all the planets in all the galaxies in all the universe, they survived to see the end. Calculate the probability of that one, and then tell me humans are the inferior race." He smiles slightly. "They're a wonderful analogy for life itself."

With a grand, sweeping gesture, he rises to his feet. "Will you find another companion?" I ask. He picks his helmet up from the dirt. "I'm sure I'll come across one I like. There must be at least one in those six-billion. Haha." He reaches out his hand again, his helmet under his arm. "Well, I must be off. Good luck to you." I shake his hand again, more strongly this time. "Nice meeting you. I could use more peaceful moments like this" he says. "The pleasure was all mine" I reply, with more meaning than I've felt in quite some time. I watch as he replaces his helmet and returns to his ship, issuing a mechanical growling as it phases out of existence. I turn my attention to Earth, and reach with my power. I look, and I find her. Laurie...


End file.
